


Mitzi Belle Is An Angel

by phantomthief_fee



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games), BioShock Infinite
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 10:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19789090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Andrew Ryan is reduced to tears in the face of compassion and love from a 12-year-old girl.





	Mitzi Belle Is An Angel

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [November 18th, 1968](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19787926) by [northatlanticproject](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northatlanticproject/pseuds/northatlanticproject). 



[@project-parkside](https://tmblr.co/mhPSvyGjYN6xYix5wProChw) has this amazing [Aftershock AU ](https://project-parkside.tumblr.com/tagged/aftershock)where basically everyone is okay. And dear [Mitzi Belle](https://project-parkside.tumblr.com/tagged/mitzi-belle) is a thing in this au. So, inspired by [this](https://project.parkside.tumblr.com/post/182427827052/i-love-how-literally-every-character-just-cannot) post, here is Mitzi Belle reducing a grown man to tears. 

Some of the dialogue is lifted straight from [this](https://project-parkside.tumblr.com/post/182427827052/i-love-how-literally-every-character-just-cannot) post. 

* * *

Andrew Ryan didn’t trust people. Kindness was a weakness. You always had to be looking out for number one no matter what. This had been his policy for the majority of his life. It had been what kept him alive and made him rich and successful. It was less useful now that his city had been destroyed and he no longer had any power. No one took him at all seriously anymore. Jack’s girls had tolerated his rants about the Great Chain when they’d been younger, but they weren’t all that interested in listening to his speeches nowadays.

For a man like Ryan, this was a nightmare. To be forgotten and unimportant. He needed to be listened to. He needed to be important. He had been a man of power and prestige once. Now he was just a washed up and bitter old man whose biggest enemy was the neighborhood teens. He was nothing and no one. No one cared what he had to say anymore. 

Well, almost no one. 

“Hello, Mr. Ryan!” He turned his head to face the one person who actually seemed to enjoy spending time with him. 

Mitzi Belle Thompson Sinclair was an anomaly in Ryan’s eyes. Neither of her fathers had any good feelings regarding him, and her older sister wasn’t fond of him either. By all rights, she should have hated him. The fact that she didn’t was a minor miracle. She was so kind and compassionate and actually went out of her way to spend time with him.

“How was your day? You mind if I sit with you?” She sat down on the couch next to him, a plate of cookies in her lap. “We can watch Jeopardy together! I have cookies we can share.”

“What do you want? Everyone is out for the day,” Ryan said, trying to look as though he wasn’t paying attention. 

Booker had been in need of some vaccines and so Jack and Elizabeth had lured him out of the house under false pretenses in order to get him to actually go. Ziggy had been taken along to distract Booker and had been promised ice cream for his trouble. They would probably be gone for most of the day. This was Booker, after all. It was a miracle the man was still alive, honestly.

“Oh, I know,” Mitzi replied. “Daddy said everyone was going to be gone and I thought you might be lonely.”

“You thought I might be lonely?” Ryan repeated incredulously. 

“Mm-hm!” Mitzi nodded. “ _I’d_ be lonely if I was in the house by myself all day, so I thought you would be too.” She was kicking his legs back and forth and bobbing her head from side to side in time with the Jeopardy music. 

Ryan still didn’t entirely trust her. No one could possibly be this nice. It just didn’t make sense. Why would someone be nice to someone else for no reason? She had to have some kind of ulterior motive. Sinclair was her father, which meant she had to be some kind of swindler. But then again, Topside was ridiculously nice himself. 

“Where did you get the cookies?” Ryan asked, gesturing to the plate. 

“Auntie Grace and I made them,” Mitzi replied proudly. “I didn’t tell her they were for you, though, ‘cause then she wouldn’t have helped me. But I think she might’ve known.”

“You made these….specifically for me?” He cursed the warmth that well up in his heart at the idea. 

“Yeah!” She nodded, smiling again. She had made these cookies specifically for him. He glanced down at the treats on the plate. They were lumpy and a bit misshapen, obviously made by a child. But they’d been made specifically for him. He quickly turned away, trying to force down the feelings welling up. 

“Why do you even want to spend time with a mean, bitter old grump or whatever else they call me,” He demanded. “I’m certainly not going to give you any money if that’s what you’re after.”

“I don’t think you’re actually that mean, Mister Ryan,” Mitzi said. “I think you do mean things because you’ve come to expect the worst from people. But sometimes people who do mean things just need someone to be nice to them and be their friend.” She gave him the biggest most sincere smile he’d ever seen. No one had ever looked at Ryan like that before, with such love and compassion. He could feel the beginnings of tears in his eyes. 

“Here! Why don’t you try one of the cookies?” Mitzi held out a cookie to him. 

“Raisins…my favorite, how did you know?” His voice was small as he took the cookie from her. 

“Old people love dried fruit!” Mitzi proclaimed, her smile widening. Ryan took a bite of the cookie. It was indeed oatmeal raisin, and it tasted delicious. Oh God, was he really going to start crying here?

“It is…acceptable.” He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his aloof image. “But it could use some work. For instance, the shape is completely wrong.”

“I know.” Mitzi shrugged. “But they still taste good. That’s what matters.”

“Yes…I suppose so.” He conceded, taking another cookie.

They lapsed into silence for a moment or two, listening to Jeopardy. But something was still nagging at Ryan.

“Tell me, why is it that you don’t consider me ‘mean’?” He asked. “You said I expect the worst in people. Why do you say that? Why do you think I hurt people?” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know her opinion on this. Presumably, it would be the same as everyone else’s opinion. That he was a monster and all that. 

“I think you hurt other people’s feelings because someone hurt your feelings a long time ago and it makes you feel like you’re in control,” Mitzi replied. “Is your hatred of poor people really self-hatred, Mr. Ryan? Weren’t you poor when you came to America?” The look she gave him wasn’t one of pity. It was a look that said she understood what he was feeling. She felt bad, yes, but she didn’t pity him. “Don’t you wanna show some compassion to them? I’m sorry no one showed any to you.”

Ryan’s lip began to quiver. All his walls were crumbling down in the face of this sincere and sweet angel.

When Jack and Elizabeth returned to the house with Ziggy and a very drugged Booker, they found Ryan sobbing in the arms of Mitzi Belle. None of them could tell what exactly he was saying, but Mitzi was patting his back and telling him that it was okay.

“Dad?” Jack asked. Ryan didn’t even hear him. He was crying too loud. 

“…Is he okay?” Ziggy whispered, clinging to his father’s pant leg. None of them had ever actually seen Ryan cry before, and it was very strange to actually witness it. 

“What…What happened?” Elizabeth asked, almost dropping Booker. She had Booker’s arm slung over her shoulder. He was drooling onto the floor. 

“I just told him I didn’t think he was mean,” Mitzi replied brightly. 

Once Ryan stopped crying, he demanded that no one ever speak of what they’d seen. He then promptly disappeared upstairs with the plate of cookies that Mitzi had brought. Mitzi was completely unphased by this, considering it a success and heading home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love Aftershock and I wanted to write something in it. And I adore Mitzi Belle. So here we are.


End file.
